


Bottom Marcus Smut Shots

by someawkwardwhitebech



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Play, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Ass Play, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bottom Marcus Holloway, Breathplay, Consensual Kink, Consent Play, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Implied Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Kink, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Nipple Play, Panty Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Play, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sensation Play, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Size Kink, Smut, Sub Marcus Holloway, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someawkwardwhitebech/pseuds/someawkwardwhitebech
Summary: A collection of Bottom Marcus since there's really not a lot of them out here. ;)





	Bottom Marcus Smut Shots

The soldiers whipped past the closet wood doors of the oak janitor closet.

Marcus held his breath, eyes never leaving the doors.

However, he heard the heavy panting of his anarchist friend behind him, their heated bodies flush against one another.

He nearly tensed up when he felt something hard against the curvature of his ass.

He clasped a hand over his mouth and heard the male move uncomfortably behind him.

A small moan left the other's lips and they both froze up.

"Fuck, sorry- I-"

Marcus gently leaned back a bit, shuddering a bit when he felt it again, but successfully shutting the other up.

Two hands slid along Marcus' hips and he bit back the whimper clawing its way into his throat.

His knees felt sore against the floor and he pushed back a bit and held back the moan in his throat.

He arched his back a bit, body shivering as arousal pitted itself into his gut.

Footsteps stopped in front of the closet and Marcus fought against the urge of rolling his hips against the tease right behind him.

For a quiet moment, he heard someone muttering something and whined into his hand.

The anarchist behind him shifted, pushing a gun into Marcus' free hand in case something were to happen.

The footsteps continued on as Wrench pushed the male forward against the locked door.

The man's hands slipped into the hem of his pants, toying with the clothed erection in his boxers.

Marcus moaned into his hand, thrusting up against his hands with a whimper.

Wrench leaned over the darker male and huffed, mask landing next to the male's bent knees.

Brown eyes gently fell on it before M realized the male was maskless and trusting him with this.

He huffed and gently reached over his shoulder for Wrench's neck, pulling him into a heated, biting kiss.

Their moans collided in the heated air between them, teeth clashing and noses rubbing or bumping awkwardly.

Everything was so sickeningly heated and dirty, the arousal hit Marcus like a bag of fucking bricks.

They parted and Marcus leaned a bit away, huffing and panting as the hand worked itself in his underwear.

He let out a breathy moan and rolled his hips against the rough hand.

He felt the other hand dip against his belt, clanking it off fast and breathlessly.

Marcus pushed the hand against his mouth to the door, pushing his ass against Wrench's clothed erection.

"Fuck- Just-"

The unfiltered voice behind him let out a muffled groan, Wrench rolled his hips against the male's plush ass.

"How does this happen here and now of all places-"

"Who knows, just, fuck- I-"

The two shifted, pants pushed down and out of the way, boxers following as the two leaned into one another's heat.

Marcus grunted when the other slipped a finger against his opening, back curling a bit in response as his erection brushed up against his stomach.

"D-Do it," the male tried, pushing back as another finger slipped in and gently stretched him out.

A whimper leaped from his throat and he leaned his forehead against his hand on the door, the other holding his body up off the ground, gun forgotten next to it.

The anarchist behind him grunted, biting small markings into the curve of the male's spine, his free hand tugging the fabrics of his hoodie and shirt up bit by bit.

The male grunted, his cock twitching against Marcus' thigh, "You look hot like this."

Marcus moaned into his hand, muffling it only slightly.

Outside the closet was quiet, no footsteps or gunshots, and even their comms were quiet.

Oh shit.

The Dedsec channel was on.


End file.
